Early spring? Nature's not taking firm position

Like a newly elected politician confronting the impossibility of his campaign promises, the James River is sending mixed signals. But as in politics, those signals make for grand theater.

Some confer with groundhogs. Others wait for floral hints. I prefer to consult the river, specifically its avian indicators, this time of year for signs of spring. Birds offer dramatic gestures, but on a recent walk along the James' banks, they seemed to be speaking out of both sides of their mouths, as if they'd been taking cues from Washington.

It started on the south side of the river under the Nickel Bridge. The day was cool, and a stiff breeze blew downstream toward town. My dogs and I walked down from Riverside Drive, crossed the train tracks and stood by the water under the bridge. Earlier this winter, in a pond between the tracks and the road farther west, I spotted two wood ducks floating beneath a downed limb.

What a rare thing to see those beautiful but bashful ambassadors of the duck world in the middle of the city. Despite their uncommon splendor, though, the wood duck is a close second for me when it comes to favorite avian river dwellers. Tops on the list is the bufflehead, and that's what we came to seek the other day by the Nickel Bridge.

The bufflehead is one of North America's smallest ducks and also one of its most monogamous. The males wear their white and black plumage like a tuxedo, while the dark areas on females are more brownish-gray.

It's a sure sign autumn is here when buffleheads descend on the James en masse - they seem to love the rapids between Pony Pasture and Belle Isle - from their breeding grounds in Canada. But it's just as sure a sign that winter is ending when they return to parts north.

Part of me hoped for one last look at a bufflehead pair before they took off for good, but I also knew what that would mean. Punxsutawney Phil was right: Winter isn't quite finished with us.

Upstream and down, we looked and saw nothing but gulls. We moved on a few hundred yards east to a beach where kayakers often put in. Two months ago, at this spot, I spied two mature bald eagles on consecutive days. I'd heard about an eagle's nest in Windsor Farms, and it was a thrill to finally see the residents.

On this day, there were no eagles, but not 20 yards from shore a bufflehead pair swam easily against the current. Good news and bad, I guess. I can't get enough of seeing these ducks, but I've certainly had plenty of winter.

Unlike mallards and Canada geese, buffleheads don't seem to enjoy being anywhere near humans. As soon as they saw us, they took off for the rapids in the middle of the river. There they met up with six more.

Half a mile west on the main path through the James River Park came a contradictory, and hopeful, sign. In a protected channel between a few small islands, two Canada geese kept watch over a gaggle of goslings. It seemed early for this familiar spring sight, but there they were.

Down by Belle Isle, we saw mostly gulls. I don't know if they dropped their compasses on the way here, but there are always a huge number on the rocks all year long. The ocean is that way, fellows!

Now down on the floodwall, we were running out of real estate. The buffleheads suggested more winter ahead; the goslings (assuming they don't get eaten first) implied otherwise. Which would it be?

Farther down the path, we had our answer: the great blue heron rookery in the James. On an island close to the north bank, dozens of heron pairs had set up giant nests in trees and begun courting. I remembered this spectacle, rare in a city's downtown, from last year, but like the appearance of the goslings, this seemed early.

I'm no heron expert, but surely they don't start laying eggs when more snow is possible. They must be on to something. Maybe they'd chatted up the geese and all reached the same conclusion.

Why they didn't include the buffleheads in the conversation will have to remain a mystery. In the meantime, I'm scoring it 2-1 in favor of imminent spring.

Contact Andy Thompson at

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